


Something Borrowed

by matthewbrown



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Brownham, Gay Hawks (One Sided), M/M, Other, The Mask is a Character Too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 13:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1512371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matthewbrown/pseuds/matthewbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matthew Brown brings home a souvenir from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Borrowed

It wasn't easy, but it was worth it. It was home, and it was _his_ , at least for now: the most precious of his prizes.

The mask.

The one he fastened around the back of Graham's head earlier that day _(brushing his fingers against Will's curls, so soft, made harsher by the prison soap but still so soft)_ , the one Jack Crawford so carelessly tossed aside after he'd ordered everyone out, the one he held gingerly in his hands now, sitting on the edge of his bed, in his tiny apartment, alone.

Restraints and equipment have to be checked in and out by the orderlies who take them from the supply room. There is a clipboard by the door with pages of orderlies' signatures, dates and times, label numbers. It took a temporary short in the camera, a quick change of label between restraint masks, rearranging the masks so that nothing looked out of place, slipping the used mask _(Graham's mask,_ his _mask)_  into his bag before conveniently fixing the camera. All in all, it took a perfectly crafted four and a half minutes.

Really, the hardest part of all was waiting until end of shift. Going about his duties. Pretending like nothing had happened. Acting like his heart didn't beat just a little faster passing Graham his food tray in the evening.

Almost guilty.

Almost.

\--

By the time Matthew got home, he could hardly contain himself.

He couldn't get out of his clothes fast enough.

He wanted to take a shower first, to rid himself of the daily dirt and grime of a day's work at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane before... attending to his other plans. The nurse scrubbed himself under the near-scalding water until his muscles were relaxed and he was clean, head to toe. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he grinned sheepishly at himself in the mirror on the way out of the bathroom.

Grabbing his ill-gotten prize out of his bag, Matthew lay naked on top of his sheets, contemplating it, his heart beating fast from the heat of the shower and the thrill of what he was holding, and...

_Graham._

His heat-tinged cheeks turned pinker still.

This was better than the time he'd temporarily _borrowed_  a piece of Graham's clothing from the evidence locker - that had all been washed and folded neatly, no real sign of Graham left in it. This... this was special.

He held the mask reverently in his hands, trying to prolong his anticipation, but excitement won out in the end.

Matthew lowered the mask to his face, pulling the strap up over his head and buckling it behind. He held his breath for a moment, his body tingling, and lay as still as he could manage. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, imagining he was inhaling the same air Graham had when he'd worn the mask earlier that day. His hands began to move, almost as if unbidden, toward his cock, by now fully erect. Delicately he stuck out his tongue, touching the tip to the holes that had covered Graham's mouth, hungrily devouring the tiny droplets of hot breath that Graham had left behind, barely suppressing a moan. He raised one of his hands to the mask, pressing it closer to his face, using his other hand to stroke himself while kissing just beyond where Graham's lips had been. The clear mask soon fogged up with steam, Matthew's breath growing heavier and faster with every stroke of his cock. The orderly rolled his hips forward to meet his hand a few times before rolling his lithe body over, pressing himself into his grip against the mattress, kissing the inside of the mask as though it were the man that it had once restrained rather than just the ghost of him in Matthew's mind.

_Graham._

So many images flowed through his mind, like still pictures on a slide projector, like a disjointed low-budget film. _Soft curls._ Thrust. _A glimpse of Graham bathing._  Thrust. _Held like a bird in a cage._  Thrust. _Graham free, the way he should be, the way he_ would _be when Matthew was done._

It was that thought - Graham finally free - that finally did him in, the image of real sunlight filtering through those dark curls: Matthew pressed hard against his hand, spilling onto the mattress, drunk on the act and what he'd gone through to achieve it.

Smiling into his pillow, all he could manage to whisper was _Will_.


End file.
